


Need

by ArgentSleeper



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Returns, Dark Merlin, Like pitch black kinda dark, M/M, Post-Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day, but not evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:18:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2058975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentSleeper/pseuds/ArgentSleeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur had been told he would return when he was needed most.  He never expected that this would be the reason.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>Arthur felt something churn inside him. Why was he getting a bad feeling about the way this story was heading? Did this have something to do with the world’s great need?</em></p><p>  <em>“We found out later… you see, sire…” Leon trailed off, gaze fixed on the ground. “It’s difficult to tell you, but…”</em></p><p>  <em>“Merlin’s gone mad.”</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Need

**Author's Note:**

> WHAT HAVE I DONE
> 
> I've had this idea for forever, and it's seriously taken me months to write because it was so hard to depict Merlin like this. I actually had to stalk Merlin-hate tags to finish it, and now I'm so depressed I need to go eat a boatload of chocolate. I LOVE YOU, MERLIN. I'M SO SORRY.

 

 

When Arthur first entered Avalon, he was greeted by a young woman he was certain he had never met before and yet oddly felt comfortably familiar. She hugged him warmly and said, “Thank you for taking care of my Merlin.” Before Arthur could come up with a suitable reply for that (like “…What?”), she pulled back. “This is not the end, Arthur Pendragon. One day, when you are needed most, you shall return to restore light and order.”

 

To that he wanted to ask “Will Merlin be there too?” but then she was gone. So Arthur settled himself in for a nice long nap in oblivion.

 

He didn’t expect to be called back so soon.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Arthur opened his eyes his surroundings looked surprisingly the same as when he’d closed them. Same trees, same sky. A familiar weight in his hand told him somehow he was holding Excalibur. Something sharp poked into his back, and he panicked for a moment until he realized it was just a twig. With a groan Arthur heaved himself upright. Well, perhaps he wasn’t in exactly the same place. He now seemed to be by the lake Merlin had fought so hard to get him to.

 

Merlin. Arthur twisted quickly around, searching. Merlin wouldn’t have just left him here alone. Not unless…

 

He nearly dropped back down again. The words of the mysterious woman came back to him. _One day when you are needed most_. Did that mean… Was it really the future? Was Merlin… and Guinevere and Gaius and Leon and Gwaine and… Were they all _dead_?

 

Arthur couldn’t even be bothered to wonder what exactly this “need” was, so overwhelmed was he by the idea that everyone he had ever known and loved was gone. Was this supposed to be some kind of punishment? His friends had to suffer through the grief of losing him, so now he had to deal with losing them in turn? Whatever he was needed for, it could wait.

 

Night was falling and so was a downpour of rain by the time Arthur gathered himself back together. “Shelter,” he muttered out loud. “Need to find shelter.”

 

If he remembered correctly –if the world hadn’t completely and totally changed in even more ways than he could already handle –there was a cave nearby. They had taken refuge there when Morgana had taken over Camelot the first time. Morgana who was also dead, killed by Merlin. Arthur shook his head to clear it. He had to stop thinking about it or he was going to remain paralyzed the rest of his life.

 

His second life.

 

The ground was slippery from mud, clinging to his boots and nearly pulling the left one, which had always been a little loose for his tastes, off at one point. Using Excalibur as a balancing tool, he managed somehow not to fall on his face. The sheets of water were so thick it was only muscle memory of having grown up in these woods that allowed him to find his destination. Drops streamed into his eyes, nearly blinding him no matter how many times he tried to fruitlessly wipe them away. A waterfall had formed over the mouth of the cave, and if Arthur hadn’t been drenched already, ducking through it to reach shelter would have done it.

 

Just as he was about to try to shake himself as dry as possible, however, the edge of a sword at his throat stopped him, and Excalibur fell from his hands with a clatter.

 

“Identify yourself!”

 

Arthur’s knees nearly gave way in shock, and he wasted a few precious moments gaping his mouth like a fish. “…L-Leon?”

 

A sharp prick informed him the sword had simply been driven deeper. “ _I_ _said_. _Identify. Yourself_.”

 

“It-it’s _me_. It’s _Arthur_.”

 

Now there was a prick at his chest as another sword joined the first, and the voice of Percival growled, “ _This_ is his plan? What, does he think we’ve turned into complete _idiots_?”

 

“P-Percival! Leon! I swear, it’s me! I know I… I died. Please, just hear me out.”

 

“And what makes you think we would believe you if we did?”

 

“Leon, wait…” There was a scraping sound, but Arthur wasn’t about to move to look at what Percival had found. “This is the king’s sword… I watched Merlin throw it into the water with my own eyes. How did you come by it?”

 

Arthur let a strangled bit of laughter. “If I could explain it I would. One minute I’m dying and the next I’m waking up by a lake with it by my side. Look, just… ask Merlin. I met a friend of his while I was, you know, _dead_. At least, she mentioned him, anyway, so I assume they were friends. Maybe he knows what happened.”

 

Percival’s sword dropped slightly, and Arthur took a moment to breathe a sigh of reliefs. “I think he’s telling the truth.”

 

Was it Arthur’s imagination or did he seem oddly _sad_ about that?

 

“He wouldn’t mention Merlin like that if he wasn’t, would he?”

 

“What do you mean, mention him like that? He’s not- tell me he’s not…” now Arthur’s knees did buckle, and Leon’s sword fell away too as he lowered the king gently to the ground. Arthur’s voice came out in a squeak. “Is Merlin dead?”

 

He’d felt such hope when he first heard Leon’s voice. Maybe not that much time had passed. The blurry outline of Percival that Arthur could glean through rain soaked eyes looked the same as he before. Yet Merlin was… oh, ye gods, not Merlin.

 

“Arthur?” Leon came around into view, and Arthur took a moment to wipe the water from his eyes. Yes, a bit scruffier, but that was the Leon he remembered. “Is it really you?”

 

“It’s really me,” he whispered. Instantly he was engulfed in a hug.

 

“We thought… we _knew_ … _how?_ ”

 

“I don’t know…” Arthur admitted again. “All I remember is while I was… dead, I was told I would return when I was needed most. And then I was here. But why are _you_ here? Where is everyone?” _Where’s Merlin?_

 

Leon and Percival exchanged nervous looks. “Sire…” Percival started, “why don’t you come closer to the fire?”

 

Arthur complied, accepting a thick blanket. He noted that Percival didn’t give him Excalibur back.

 

“Sire, it hasn’t been very long, a little over a year, but… a lot has happened since…”

 

“I died.”

 

“Yes…” Leon winced. “Since that. Gwen was crowned as primary ruler soon after Percival returned with word of your death. We thought it best, you know, to give stability to the people.” Arthur nodded. He would have done the same. “Her first act was, well, I’m sorry, sire, but she legalized magic.”

 

Once upon a time this would have induced feelings of fury and betrayal in the king. But now, after all he knew, he just nodded again. “Because of Merlin.”

 

The two knights reeled backwards, eyes wide. “You- you _knew_?” Leon gasped.

 

“He told me after I was wounded. It took me a while, but… I came to terms with it. I understand why Guinevere did what she did. Merlin saved my life, more times than I can count. He kept trying to save me until the very end.”

 

“Indeed…” Percival agreed weakly.

 

“I won’t be attempting to reverse her ruling. I know sorcery has been a subject of great fear and mistrust in the past, but that time is over.” Neither man appeared convinced. _Where is he? What have you done with him?_

“Right. Well, after that, we had to worry about future invasions. Everyone knew about… you, and we didn’t want to be caught in a weak position. We were especially worried about the remaining Saxons. It was a while before we got confirmation about Morgana’s death, and there was no telling if they would back down without a clear leader. But after a couple months had passed, we started to receive reports that the Saxons had been wiped out. As well as half of Lot’s army.”

 

Arthur felt something churn inside him. Why was he getting a bad feeling about the way this story was heading? Did this have something to do with the world’s great need?

 

“We found out later… you see, sire…” Leon trailed off, gaze fixed on the ground. “It’s difficult to tell you, but…”

 

“Merlin’s gone mad.”

 

Arthur stared. There was water in his ears. Obviously it was causing a great obstruction because he hadn’t heard that correctly. He would give himself another chance. “I’m sorry?”

 

“He returned to the castle soon after that,” Percival explained quietly. “Kept ranting about keeping Gwen safe. Threw out the entire council claiming they were useless. Things just kept getting worse after that. Anyone seen talking to her without him right by her side was banished, or worse, killed outright. Eventually no one was allowed to even be in the same room with her alone. He stuck by her side morning, noon, and night, only leaving occasionally to do who knew what. He was… completely paranoid, almost delusional or well, _manic_ might be the best word for it, about her safety. Everyone was out to harm her.”

 

His heart was either sinking or shattering, Arthur wasn’t sure which. _Oh, Merlin… I did this, didn’t I? I should never have left you_. It didn’t even occur to him that Merlin might be enchanted. Protecting people had always been Merlin’s life. But before he’d had an anchor, something to temper his actions. Not anymore.

 

Fighting his rising guilt, he forced out, “You said ‘was’?”

 

Leon took over again. “A few weeks ago, we started to fear for Gwen’s safety ourselves. No one was allowed around her; we couldn’t ask if she was alright. Not even Gaius could go within a few paces on his own. If she was ill or injured, even something as small as a paper cut, Merlin would heal it himself rather than allow anyone to touch her. Finally we came up with a plan. Percival claimed to have seen a gryphon while out on patrol. Merlin went to his room –one that adjoins to Gwen’s so he can be there even when she’s sleeping –and we took the chance to try to talk to her. Merlin… he came back and found us. I swear, Arthur, he would have killed us right there. Said he should have known, that it was always the ones you should suspect least. If Gwen hadn’t distracted him… We ran, and have been on the run ever since.”

 

“Last we heard, Gwen’s been locked up and not allowed out of her rooms since. And Merlin’s calling for our heads. For everyone’s heads.”

 

 _Merlin…_ Arthur dropped his head into his hands. Merlin wasn’t dead, but this, this was so much worse.

 

“What about everyone else? Gwaine?”

 

If Arthur had been looking, he would have seen their faces fall even further. “Sire…” Leon said quietly. “Gwaine’s dead.”

 

Arthur’s gaze snapped up in horror. “No. He didn’t- he _wouldn’t_ -”

 

“No, no, it wasn’t Merlin! It was Morgana.” Percival joined in with his tale of them tracking the witch down, only for Morgana to torture Gwaine for Arthur’s location, resulting in his death.

 

“I think it was the final straw for him, really, finding out about Gwaine. Wondering what might’ve happened if he’d been there.”

 

They were all quiet for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts. All Arthur could see was the devastated look on Merlin’s face as he took his last breaths.

 

“Right. Well, get some sleep. We leave first thing in the morning.”

 

“Leave? You mean to go back to Camelot?”

 

“Merlin doesn’t allow anyone to enter the gates. People can exit if they like –and many have since he started killing anyone and everyone who blinks wrong –but no one can come back in. Anyone who tries is brought before him and never seen again.”

 

“Good, then we won’t have to jump through any hoops to talk to him. This is my fault. I’m going to fix it. You can’t tell me you meant to spend the rest of your lives in a cave?”

 

The knights –former knights –shifted uncomfortably. Leon refused to meet his eyes. “We’ve been traveling. Asking around… We’ve never thought we could actually do it, but…”

 

Something terrible slotted into place. “You’ve been looking for a way to kill him!”

 

“We would _never_ kill Merlin! _Never_ ,” he protested. “Not even after all of this, but… you have to understand, it’s like the Purge all over again, only this time there’s no discrimination in who dies, sorcerer and citizen alike. We were just hoping, maybe we could neutralize him, give us a chance to talk to him and make him see reason. It’s his magic that makes him stand uncontested, not any great strategy. With it he can kill whom he wishes and form diamond-hard shields without batting an eyelid.”

 

“The greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth…” That was what Gaius had said. But Gaius couldn’t have seen this coming. “Did you find anything?”

 

“An armlet. We got it from the druids, the few who haven’t allied themselves with Merlin already. With it you’re immune to most sorcery, even the powerful kind. They did warn, however, that with the strength of Merlin’s magic, it would be burnt out after a few hits. There would be no guarantee that if we sent you in there, that you would be able to come back out.”

 

“Merlin won’t hurt me.” And that was his final word on the subject. “First thing in the morning, gentlemen.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Arthur wasn’t sure how he slept at all that night, but he must have, because before he knew it Leon was shaking him awake again. Percival offered him a bit of dried fish and an apple, but Arthur couldn’t manage to choke the food down.

 

He left his mail, rusted and useless now from all the rain, by the stifled fire. Excalibur went to his hip. Merlin would recognize the sword, even if he didn’t believe when Arthur said who he was. Hopefully no one would see it and take it away from him.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Leon asked for the seventh time as they packed up their things. “What if Merlin simply puts you under as heavy a guard as Gwen?”

 

“Then I’ll have lots of chances to talk to him, won’t I?”

 

Leon and Percival spent the trip informing Arthur of all the security changes he would have to get through. A shield around the castle gates. Nearly all of the guards replaced by druids, every one of whom was utterly devoted to Merlin –“Well, they call him Emrys.” They would be the ones to nab him at the gate to take him to Merlin.

 

“There’s no way to tell which ones have magic and which don’t, but the armlet should protect you from anything the sorcerers try to do. I don’t know how it will react to the shield charm, but you’re supposed to become frozen ‘til they arrest you, so it might be best to fake it if nothing happens.”

 

As the turrets came into view Arthur couldn’t deny his growing nerves. He was no less sure that Merlin would never do anything to harm him. But what if the others were right and Merlin wouldn’t listen to him? What if Arthur couldn’t stop him from continuing on this bloody quest to rid the world of traitors, real or imagined?

 

He had to try.

 

Percival and Leon left him just outside the castle gates. It was too dangerous for them to show their faces, even in the company of Arthur. For the king’s part, he took some of the mud from the night’s storm and smeared it across his face and hair. He couldn’t risk someone recognizing him before he got to Merlin.

 

As he approached the gate, a tingling sensation began to ripple across his skin. The freezing spell. The armlet was doing its job, protecting him from the effects, but he remembered Leon’s advice. Quickly Arthur paused in place, hardly daring to breathe. He wished he knew exactly what the limits of this curse were.

 

Almost instantly two men approached, grabbing him by the arms. The tingling stopped, and Arthur allowed them to drag him through the lower town towards the citadel. A few quick glances told him they were strangers, likely some of the druids Merlin had brought in. For some reason they didn’t touch Excalibur, though that was perhaps because they thought he hadn’t a hope of using it to harm them.

 

Arthur let them take him to the throne room. He expected Guinevere and Merlin, or at least Merlin, to meet him there. But the room was empty, devoid of even a random servant. The druid guards threw him to the ground and left. A resumed sense of tingles told him they must have frozen him again. The moment the doors closed behind him, Arthur leapt to his feet and set off for his and Guinevere’s rooms. He knew this castle far better than any druid; he would be able to get there before Merlin could be fetched.

 

Arthur wanted to approach Merlin as an equal. Not as his king. Certainly not as his prisoner.

 

Raised voices from within confirmed that Merlin and Guinevere were indeed still inside. The door jolted him as he tried to open it and the armlet heated painfully, but it didn’t stop him. Arthur cracked the door open and peered inside.

 

Merlin paced furiously. “-last time, I’m trying to _protect_ you, Gwen!”

 

“And as I’ve told you, I don’t _need_ to be protected, Merlin! Not like this!” Guinevere sat on the edge of the bed, almost out of sight. Despite the anger in her words, her form was slumped, defeated. “I am perfectly capable of deciding if someone is trying to hurt me.”

 

“That’s what Arthur thought, too!” Merlin snapped back. Arthur himself paused on the threshold. “I knew, I _knew_ what was going to happen. The diamair told me. Arthur’s bane was himself. He trusted far too much. Arthur could look his greatest foe in the eye and see nothing but a friend. He did it for Morgana, he did it for Mordred, and he did it for –”

 

“You?” Guinevere’s voice went soft. “He trusted you, even when you were lying to him about your magic? Merlin, please. You never betrayed him. You were protecting him, just like you are for me now. Arthur loved you, Merlin. He wouldn’t want you blaming yourself.”

 

The servant’s eyes were filled with steel. “I won’t fail you, Gwen. I won’t.”

 

“Merlin–”

 

“I have to go. I can’t leave our visitor waiting.”

 

Arthur pushed the door open and slipped inside before Merlin could make to leave. The sound of the hinges caused both of the room’s occupants to turn to face him, and Merlin’s hand whipped out, eyes flaring gold. Arthur was thrown across the room and slammed up against the wall. An invisible hand around his throat dangled him off the floor. Dimly he heard Guinevere begging Merlin to leave him be as his vision greyed.

 

Merlin approached, hand curling ever so slowly into a fist, glaring coldly at him. “Who are you and what do you think you’re doing here?”

 

Arthur tried to rasp out a response, but Merlin’s grip was too tight.

 

“Merlin, please, just let him go! You’re going to kill him!”

 

“Then he won’t be able to succeed in his plan to kill you, will he?”

 

“You don’t know that that’s what he’s here for.”

 

“That’s what they’re all here for.” But he let go. Arthur dropped to the ground, massaging his throat and gasping for breath.

 

‘W-w-wa’er…” There were hurried footsteps indicating Guinevere was trying to get him some, but Merlin held her back. Instead he took the goblet himself and held it out to Arthur. Quickly the king took a large gulp, easing his bruised throat. Then he dipped his hand in as best he could to scoop up a palm-full, splashing it on his face and scrubbing.

 

“What are you doing? Don’t think you’ll be getting more, not until you explain why you’re here. And that if I believe you.”

 

Using the bottom of his shirt, Arthur wiped the remaining mud off his face. Then he looked up.

 

Guinevere let out a startled gasp, and even Merlin took a step back, wide-eyed. “Merlin… Guinevere… please. It’s me.”

 

“Arthur…?” Guinevere squeaked out. Merlin simply shook his head in horror, mouth forming the word “No” over and over and over.

 

“It’s me.”

 

“Oh, Arthur,” Merlin sounded far from happy at the return of his king, yet there was no guilt either for what he had turned into. Indeed he sounded devastated. “How could they do this to you?”

 

“Arthur?” She had stopped her attempt to get any closer, confusion battling with ecstasy on her face.

 

“No, Gwen, this isn’t Arthur,” Merlin said softly. “You remember what I told you about Lancelot? Someone brought Arthur’s body back, but it’s not _Arthur_ , merely a shade. They’re using him to get close to you, just like I warned you would happen.” Merlin drew closer, lifting a hand as if to touch the king, then withdrew it quickly. “I’m sorry, Arthur. If you can hear me, please know I’m so sorry. I don’t know who did this to you, but I’m going to find out, you have my word. I won’t let them use you like this.”

 

“No, Merlin, it really is me! I swear.”

 

Merlin barked a harsh laugh. “Obviously it’s someone who thinks I’m terribly naïve.”

 

“What will it take?” he begged. Arthur fumbled for the sword at his side. “Look, I even brought this to prove it. Percival said you threw it in the lake, right? How could I get it?”

 

That gave him pause. For a brief moment Merlin looked torn between a desire to believe him and growing anger at Arthur’s very presence. He settled on his cold glare once more, lifting his hand threateningly. “When Morgana brought Lancelot back, she didn’t know about me being a sorcerer, so even though the real Lancelot knew, the shade couldn’t. Prove yourself. What’s something only Arthur and I would know?”

 

Something only they would know. Arthur could think of a dozen things that had been shared only between the two of them, but he wasn’t sure any of them would convince Merlin. Not this Merlin, who held no trace of the cheerful warmth he once exuded in such abundance. It was all Arthur’s fault that Merlin had vanished.

 

“You told me it was your destiny to serve me.”

 

Merlin snorted. “Not the best start.”

 

“You said you never did it for the credit.”

 

“Not much better.”

 

“ _Merlin_ ,” he pleaded. Merlin shut up, but Arthur could tell he was breaking. “I never told you good-bye. You didn’t want credit, but the last thing I said you was a thanks.” Merlin’s still outstretched hand trembled violently, tears glistening in his eyes, and Guinevere was crying softly somewhere behind him. Arthur slowly stood, careful not to startle him. “Because you were my friend, Merlin, even though I told you we couldn’t be. You still are. You always will be. I love you, Merlin.”

 

Arthur reached out his own hand and placed it on Merlin’s arm. Instantly the servant crumbled, dropping to his knees with a wail. Arthur sat beside him and wrapped his arms around him. “It’s really me, Merlin. It’s really me.”

 

Guinevere joined them on the ground, enveloping both of them in the tightest hug she could manage. Arthur gave them their time, especially since he needed a good bit of it himself. Soon through the sobs, though, he started to be able to make out words.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was my fault. It was all my stupid fault. I’m sorry, Arthur.”

 

Arthur pried Merlin away and gripped his chin to force him to look him in the eyes. “Merlin, you had nothing to do with it. You did your absolute best to save me.”

 

“No, I didn’t. I knew Mordred was going to do it. I _knew_. Yet I did nothing to stop him. I should have, I should’ve stopped him.”

 

Finally Arthur understood. Merlin hadn’t gone mad. Merlin was… serving his _penance_. “Merlin… no. This isn’t you. You aren’t a killer, Merlin.”

 

The broken face suddenly hardened, and Merlin stumbled away, drawing himself to his feet. He shook his head violently. “You don’t know a thing about me, Arthur,” he said softly. “You don’t have the first idea what I’ve done to protect you.”

 

“Merlin–”

 

“How did you get past the guards?” Merlin interrupted.

 

“With this.” Arthur pulled the armlet off, proffering it as a gesture of goodwill. Merlin snatched it from his hands, gripping it so tightly the edges broke his skin. “It renders magic inert, or so I was told.”

 

The sorcerer’s eyes narrowed. “Where did you get it?”

 

Arthur hesitated. Things had been going well, and Merlin believed he was who he said he was. But this didn’t feel right. “Just some druids.” That was what his knights had told him, after all.

 

“You’re lying,” he hissed anyway. “You mentioned Percival. He gave it to you, didn’t he? He and Leon have been looking for ways to get rid of me.” Gold flashed through Merlin’s eyes, though no visible effects of sorcery could be seen. He threw the armlet across the room, smashing the mirror. “That’s why you have Excalibur. They know that’s the only way to get kill me. Well, they’ll just have to try a bit harder next time.”

 

His eyes flashed again, and Excalibur snapped away from Arthur’s waist to the former servant’s hands. Merlin ran a hand over the smooth metal before tucking it into his own belt. Arthur noted he was trembling, tiny ticks plaguing him around his eyes and mouth. “I won’t fail you again, Arthur, I promise. Gwen, I expect you both to be ready to leave in the morning.”

 

With that he slammed his way out of the room.

 

Guinevere clung to Arthur, her sobbing resuming now that Merlin was gone. “I couldn’t stop him. I’m sorry, I tried, I really did. I don’t know what happened to him-”

 

“Shh, it’s alright. You’re not responsible for this. In fact, Leon and Percival told me you’re the reason they were able to escape.”

 

“I agreed to let him protect me, I didn’t think he’d go this far! It’s like he’s not _Merlin_ anymore.”

 

But Arthur wasn’t sure that was true. The Merlin he had known had sworn to protect him or die at his side. His Merlin had been willing to leave Gwaine and Percival to rot in Morgana’s mines because he worried something would happen to Arthur. His Merlin had told him to let Mordred die rather than agree to embrace magic, because the only thing he cared about more than being free was Arthur’s safety.

 

His Merlin was always telling him he was better than his actions betrayed him to be. But who had been that person for Merlin? Who had told Merlin to choose mercy over violence? Warned him it did not do for one person to be judge and jury?

 

“I’ll save him,” Arthur promised. “This time, I’ll be the one to save him.” Guinevere smiled sadly at his conviction. She did not look the least convinced. “What was this about leaving tomorrow?”

 

“I don’t know exactly,” she admitted. “That’s the point. He said he was going to take me away somewhere secret, where I could live without fear of the thousands of murderers he’s convinced roam the city. Honestly, afraid as I am about no one ever being able to find us in case Merlin turns against me next, I’m actually hoping that the decrease in threat will get him to relax enough we can help him, especially now you’re here. Gaius has been able to slip me some notes; he thinks he has a potion that will subdue him, at least for a moment. Then maybe we can-”

 

“Hold on, wait a minute. I’m not harming Merlin.”

 

“No one said anything about harming him,” Guinevere hastened to assure him. “We only want to stop him from harming anyone else. You haven’t been here, Arthur. He’s killed half the residents of the castle, and nearly a third of the lower town. He slaughtered armies, brought surrounding kingdoms to their knees. We have to do something, or you’ll have nothing left to rule.

 

“Merlin didn’t give up on me when I was enchanted by Morgana, and the times I tried to have him killed will haunt me forever. He believed there was still a part of me to save, and I truly want to believe that about him, but… as time goes on, I’m not sure there’s anything left.”

 

“There is.” Merlin had kept trying to save him until the very end, believing he would live even as Arthur took his last breaths. Arthur had to grant him that same faith. It was Arthur’s fault Merlin had taken this turn for the worse. Arthur had to be the one to fix this. “I know there is.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Guinevere and Gaius’s plan was good, at least as good as it could be. Implementing it was the difficult part. They had known getting Merlin to ingest anything would be impossible, as he personally checked his and the queen’s food with magic before they ate. He used a personal shield whenever he left the safety of their rooms, so a dosed dart was out of the question as well. The only hope they had was to get him to inhale it, which was where his trust in Arthur came in.

 

Gaius was under nearly as strict a watch as the queen. Although he did not have Merlin living with him anymore, he had a ward around his quarters, and any time he left to do his rounds he was accompanied by a druid under a blood oath to protect him. Guinevere informed Arthur that Merlin used to perform this duty himself but stopped after he could not bear to hear Gaius’s worried pleas anymore. His love for his adoptive guardian had not wavered, however, which meant of all the citizens of Camelot, the physician was the only one left with some privileges, one of which included seeing his sovereigns and ward off.

 

“I don’t wish to hear it, Gaius,” Merlin said immediately when the physician entered the room in the morning. “I only want to say goodbye one last time.”

 

Merlin had been pacing from the moment he entered the room. Excalibur still hung from his hip, but loosely, as if his fingers had been unable to tie his belt properly. They were certainly trembling enough for this to be the case. He kept glancing at Arthur, fear mingling with joy in his eyes. Arthur worried that his return had had the opposite effect than they’d been hoping. Merlin definitely looked more jumpy than calm to him.

 

“Then I will only say that I wish it could not be the last, my boy.” Gaius hugged him tight, and Merlin was definitely fighting with himself over whether to stiffen in defence or relax in comfort. Eventually Gaius released him with a final sad pat on the arm.

 

Next the old man went to Guinevere, though he only allowed himself a quick kiss on her cheek under Merlin’s watchful eye. “Might I be allowed to shake my king’s hand?”

 

Merlin considered for moment, then clenched his teeth and nodded.

 

Arthur clasped hands with the old physician, feeling the transfer of the bundled herb mix between his fingers. Guinevere had assured him that the herbs wouldn’t hurt Merlin, only make him pass out long enough they could figure out how to stop him from using his magic. As Leon had said, Merlin’s strength was nothing without his powers.

 

“It gladdens my heart to see you well, sire. I only wish we had more time.”

 

“As do I, old friend. Perhaps one day we will see each other again.”

 

Gaius stepped away and bowed his head in deference. “Until then.” With one last pleading look for Merlin, he slipped out of the room.

 

“Merlin?” Arthur couldn’t seem to bring himself to look him in the eye. “Might I have a word with you alone?”

 

“Of course, sire.” Merlin waved him into the attaching rooms he’d claimed for himself, closing the door and leaving Guinevere trapped on the other side.

 

Arthur hovered by the door, now shaking himself with nerves and guilt over what he was about to do. But Merlin, his precious Merlin, didn’t seem to pick up on it at all. He closed the distance between them in a step and threw his arms around him, smashing their lips together in a hungry kiss.

 

Arthur hadn’t had this for so long, Merlin’s hot flesh pressed against his, tongue running along the roof of his mouth, hand coming down to palm his cock, rubbing greedily against it. He almost allowed himself to become lost in the sensations, in the joy of just having his lover back in his arms, just as he remembered him.

 

But the feel of the herbs between his fingers reminded him of all that was at stake here. Reluctantly, Arthur pulled Merlin back, looking him deep in the eyes. “I missed you, too.”

 

Tears ran down Merlin’s cheeks. “Then why did you leave me?”

 

“I’m sorry, love. Truly I am. But I promise, I’ll never leave you again.”

 

“I know you won’t. I won’t let them take you, not this time.”

 

“I know you won’t,” Arthur echoed, somehow keeping his voice steady as he brought his hands up to frame Merlin’s face. “Do you trust me, love?”

 

Merlin frowned. “Of course I do.”

 

“Good. I need you to know that you can always trust me. No matter what.”

 

Merlin’s eyes were starting to go unfocused from the minimal scent, and his frown was deepening. He tensed in Arthur’s grip, awareness that something was wrong seizing him. Just before he could pull away entirely, Arthur shoved his hand in front of Merlin’s nose, holding him through his futile struggles as he grew lax and slid to the ground. All the love in his gaze had turned to betrayal before he finally closed his eyes.

 

“Guinevere!”

 

The door ripped open immediately, and his queen ran into the room. Quickly she pulled up Merlin’s sleeve. In her hands was the armlet from yesterday. “Gaius promised he could get us out of here, but I’m hoping this will break any enchantments he’s cast.” She carefully placed it on his arm.

 

Arthur picked up his old lover in his arms, cradling him gently as they hurried back into the main room. Gaius had indeed breeched the doorway, and he gestured them into the hall. “I cannot say how long that will keep him unconscious. I have a tincture of belladonna prepared that will subdue him much better, but I would prefer we get him locked up first.” He sighed as he hurried after them. “I never thought I would ever have to say such a thing.”

 

“Nor did any of us.”

 

With Merlin under lock and key, Arthur sat outside his cell door, watching his friend sleep. He prayed they would find a solution soon. He remembered this tincture from their trials with Guinevere. They could not use it for long without consequences. Or perhaps… maybe they could.

 

“Gaius? Merlin said something about the only way someone could kill him is with Excalibur. What did he mean by that?”

 

Gaius frowned, and remained quiet for a moment. “As I once told you, Merlin is no ordinary sorcerer. He has more power in one finger than most will demonstrate in their entire lifetimes. He is a creature of magic, of the old religion. As such, he does not follow the rules of the world as we know them.”

 

“Gaius?”

 

“I believe he is immortal, sire. Or as near immortal as one can ever become. The druids call him Emrys, which carries the same meaning. Excalibur was forged in a dragon’s breath, and thus has the same power of the old religion within it. I believe that for Merlin to die, he can only do so with the aid of the sword at your side.”

 

“I would never allow that to happen.” Not ever. No matter if Merlin awoke and tried to kill Arthur himself for his betrayal, Arthur would never pull his sword from its sheath and point it at his love’s heart.

 

“You may not have a choice, sire.” Arthur was sure Gaius couldn’t possibly be as indifferent as he was attempting to make himself sound. “Many people are angry with Merlin’s actions since you’ve been gone. While he sees himself as acting only out of love and loyalty, the fact remains hundreds of innocent people have been killed by his hand.”

 

“What can I do? I won’t kill him, Gaius. Nor will I order him killed, no matter what he’s done. I made that mistake with Morgana. Perhaps if I had shown her mercy from the start-”

 

“Merlin is not Morgana. Morgana lashed out in anger at being denied what was rightfully hers: a life without fear and rejection. Merlin has lashed out in anger at being denied what he was promised: the ability to protect you. Morgana would not stop her quest for anyone. Merlin will only stop for you.”

 

Arthur banged his head back against the bar of the cell. The physical pain did nothing for the pain in his heart. “But I tried, Gaius. I told him this wasn’t him, that he didn’t have to kill. He didn’t listen.”

 

“Then you try again.”

 

Arthur stayed by Merlin’s side for the next week while he slept. No one had been informed as to the warlock’s new arrangement or the king’s return, fear of reprisal too high to risk anything. Arthur feared anyway, flinching and reaching for his sword every time someone came near. He understood their anger, really he did. But even after seeing the steel in Merlin’s eyes and nearly being choked to death himself he could not connect the hardened murderer everyone described with the kind man he had once known. He hadn’t a clue how he was supposed to fix his broken lover.

 

Then the day came that Leon and Percival arrived.

 

“Sire? It is good to see you alive and well. We worried when we did not hear from you.”

 

Arthur approached the bars, though he did not leave the cell. “It is good to see you as well. Has Gaius or Guinevere informed you as to our situation?”

 

Leon shuffled nervously. “They have. And we think we have something to help towards that end.”

 

Percival held out two small silver rings. “When you didn’t contact us, we went back to the druids for help. They gave us these. They’re iron bracelets. If Merlin wears them, he won’t be able to use his magic. They lock shut, so he won’t be able to take them off.

 

“You want me to keep him locked up, like some kind of slave?”

 

“He can leave Camelot, Arthur.” Guinevere appeared around the corner. “Without his magic, the people will be safe. But he won’t be unless he goes where they can’t find him. Gaius has volunteered to take him away without anyone finding out. He can live in peace.”

 

“He won’t do it,” Arthur protested. How could they even be considering this? “He’ll just run back here. Merlin’s never had any sense of preservation. The only hope we have of keeping him hidden and safe is-”

 

From the looks in their eyes, everyone else had already come to the same conclusion. And he knew from the devastated tears on Guinevere’s cheeks they were praying there was another way. But there wasn’t.

 

“I have to be the one to take him. Merlin will stay with me. Maybe I’ll even be able to help him enough to one day return.” Merlin could change his appearance, after all. No one need know their most hated enemy resided in the castle. “And if you ever need us before then, we’ll come back.”

 

There were no angry protests. No demands that he stay to rule his kingdom. He would have shot them down if they had. Because it wasn’t his kingdom anymore –it was Guinevere’s. He had faith in her ability to rule. And one day maybe she would find someone with whom she could have more than a marriage of convenience, someone who could give her an heir. They might not be a Pendragon, but nor would they be had Arthur stayed dead in the lake.

 

That night Arthur gently loaded the sleeping Merlin in the back of a cart, covered in blankets to keep him warm and safe. The iron bracelets were fastened about his wrists. Gaius held the key, promising to hand it over on the day Merlin could be trusted to wield his power again. Merlin would be furious he awoke in the abandoned charcoal maker’s hut in the morning. But Arthur hoped that while he might not ever get over such a betrayal, perhaps he would finally be able to heal his broken heart. Because he would be with Arthur, the one he needed most.


End file.
